


Becoming a Team

by Deadvissen



Series: The Way Forward [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Beacon Academy, Before Vol. 4, Cause I don't trust myself not to mess up, Complaints and Criticism welcome, Creepy evil people, Crimes, Gen, Grimm - Freeform, MontyOumProject, Original Character(s), Original Grimm later on, RWBY - Freeform, SOMEONE HELP ME WITH TAGS, School-life, Team Bonding, Teambuilding, They're good people, Trying to avoid OP characters, Wilderness, assassinations, but I wanted to make something in the Remnant worldset, but really Grimm are cannon fodder, kinda based off a RWBY rpg I fiddled with, racism against faunus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-09 22:35:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7819915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deadvissen/pseuds/Deadvissen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Without Ozpin's quirks, Beacon Academy has a more structured outlook on the modern times. Teams are formed with four pinnacle goals in mind; defense, loyalty, guidance, and knowledge. After those 4 are more focused areas such as Civilian Care, Recon, Enforcement, Investigation, Response, and Acquisition. This story will follow primarily Team NVSB as they attend classes at Beacon and apply their learning to junior assignments. However, these are unfriendly times in Remnant as the four kingdoms have begun jockeying for position once more, war is doubtful with the increase of Grimm, but it has happened in the past. People are fearful, and with that fear comes weakness, both to the Grimm and each other. Groups long thought disbanded have been seen again, causing strife and anger, criminals are taking advantage running amok wherever possible. Huntresses and Huntsmen are expected to save everyone, but how can they when saving someone means harming another?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of All the Troubles

**Author's Note:**

> After years of daydreaming fight scenes, relationship problems, Mary Sues, and more often world building, empires, creatures, and other things we do when bored. I decided to try the thing I hated for 2 decades of my short life. I did it, I wrote a thing, and I enjoyed writing. Ha, all those English teachers were right ;-;
> 
> More seriously I tried to make a Role-playing game set in the RWBY world and while I think it had promise, I got distracted and knew no one to play it with. So here, after half a year, are some of the characters and stories that came out of that time. I could throw the scraps of it to the internet if anyone wants.

_**Nyssa Cinerious** _

_**Of all the troubles** _

 

The dying sun leaked across the clouds, it had been hot and humid the last couple of days. Nyssa didn't mind, thunderstorms were always musical to her ears, besides she stayed indoors. Right now, however, all the moisture on her was from a rushed effort with a blow-dryer. With a grimace she moves away from that topic, picking up the pace. That is until a cluster of kids catches her eye. Said kids had no good business in these out-dated back alleys, and their laughter made her skin crawl. _I should check, just to be sure._ Turning on her heel she makes for the teenagers, the closer she gets the more she recognizes the group from a few days ago. Worse they had found a new victim, this one with floppy dog ears on his head.

“What do you think you're doing?” Nyssa's voice rings out, visibly startling some of them. Good, “Did you not learn this lesson last week?”

“Mind your own business big horns, unless you want some.” came the original reply. Seriously did people only ever see her for her antlers, they aren't even that big, maybe 3 inches.

“You must be new, I told your buddies to stop last week, and unless you want me to repeat that leave. Now.”

Laughing openly, the skinny guy starts moving forward. Slow, sloppy movements betraying his lack of any training. Probably taught himself in childhood street fights. Well, that might have been a bit unfair, but she was angry. The other boys had moved to follow the new guy surprisingly. Okay so the punk did have some muscle on him, maybe an unlocked aura from their behavior. The others were sure as hell pretty brave after what happened last time. Honestly, they were still no real threat, even without any of her weapons. Unlike him, she had been training for this her entire life. Not bothering to give them any more time Nyssa takes a step forward slamming her fist into the lead kid's stomach. He certainly had an aura, her fist had hit that weird protective nothingness, rebounding sharply. The hit was good though straight enough, with plenty of power, to make his aura work extra to deflect it. While he went down, the others closed in trying to grapple her, with a practiced hand she simply reverses any actual grips they make. Some, however, began just throwing their weight on her, that would be a problem if enough tried it, these bozos didn't have any aura so she had to go easy. A few jabs, targeting soft painful spots like the kidneys, stomach, and for one poor guy who surprised her a forearm across his throat. He was coughing and spitting though so he would probably be okay. The one with an aura was standing up again, with two people around her legs she couldn't move as easy either. Luckily, he solved her dilemma rather nicely himself by jumping up and charging her in a tackle... almost like Beowolf. Her knee jerk reaction had her bring both fists down interwoven, hard. There was a loud crack, his aura failing under the blow.

Screaming the rest of them ran off abandoning their leader. Nyssa stood there, a blank look on her face. Before realization hit her, remembering first aid, she dialed emergency services on her scroll. Before checking the pulse, and breathing of the poor kid. Good news the creep was breathing, bad news she had to wait for help. To top it off the dog faunus was nowhere to be found as well. _Typical_ , sighing the redhead sits down on a nearby box. It smelled. Slowly her thoughts roll back to an hour ago.

 ------------------------------------------

It hadn't been a rough day before her mother interrupted her, indeed she had no real responsibilities for the next few weeks. Once attending Beacon that would change; of course, she was looking forward to it. Oh, she still trained all of today she had been between lance practice and throwing. Rather tame when said like that, but so many hours work up a sweat no matter what, and as such, she had been so looking forward to that lovely bath. Nyssa had made the move into a little apartment only a month ago, having never lived on her own before. It was supposed to be practice for the dorm room she would be sharing. When she had arrived after training, she immediately filled the tub and sat down to relax. Only for her scroll to go off, then go off again, and again, again.... Around that point she realized the person wasn't giving up. The redhead knew it wasn't important, the pattern was for an unknown number. Still, a line must be drawn. Standing from the tub she didn't even bother to grab a towel, other than to dry her hands, with a few forceful steps she had the offending device. “Yes?” Speaking clearly but shortly, no reason to allow them the pleasure of knowing she was dripping wet and glaring at the screen.

“Hey Nyssy!!! We're Throwing you a big Dinner party!! Where are yooooou?” high pitched and slightly slurring her Mother's voice had assaulted her ears. Nothing was on her calendar. Nyssa was meticulous with her schedule, and her Mother was definitely in the cups. Sighing the look of her face then, was the same as in the alley.

“No one informed me about an event. Did you plan this outing?” she remembered asking, although she knew the answer.

“What, sure I did. I mean probably, we've been talking about it all week. Are you sure you didn't get my messages? I was wondering why you didn't say anything!” she chuckled before finishing with a shout, “Anyways come on home for the party!!!” The click from being hung up on was resounding in the silence. What could she do but dry off, throw on her clean outfit and head to the Cinerious compound.

\------------------------------------------

The ambulance came to a halt near the opening of the alley rousing her from her fuming, the driver rushing over while two others collected a gurney. “Are you miss Cinerious? The one who injured him.”

“Yes, there was a conflict and I overestimated his aura reserves.”

“After some questions you will need to fill out a form, but then you should be free to go. Thank you for calling us.” Some simple medical questions followed; How had he been injured? Had she moved him? Had his breathing varied? Any sign of coughing or blood? Etc. Of course, she answered honestly, while being as accurate as possible. The form was more difficult the questions requiring longer written-out statements. After getting the gist of the encounter down she settled for writing her full name along with her current address so the paramedics could leave quickly. Her duty done she starts jogging no one could make up for lost time, but hopefully she would make it home before another delay.

 ------------------------------------------

Among the stone and concert giants in the affluent markets of Vale, stood her home, the high walls of thick Black Locust with the towering gates of heavy Greenheart wood, it was and always will be beautiful. The compound, built shortly after the peace treaty, had been made to suffer more than one attack. Quality treated hardwood, in addition to the dust systems on top, had always held firm, even against fire. Indeed it was a true symbol of her clan, a stalwart fortress preventing the short sighted from injuring themselves. Nyssa ran her hand along the open gate, hardly ever closed in her lifetime, as she went past. Music and laughter could be heard in the courtyard, her wondrous party no doubt. Bracing herself she paints on a smile, stepping out into the lantern light.

About three dozen people were at the two long tables, drinks and food lying all along. Her mother had really pulled out the stops for this event, the tables had no cloth showing the beautiful ash wood to full advantage, and probably staining them beyond belief. A fog of scents hung in the air; candied fruits, alcohol, honeyed meats, freshly baked breads, perfume oils from the old fashion lights. Almost every guest had animal ears or some form of tail, but a few of her parent's friends had shown to congratulate her.

Dearg Stone, a tall burly man with orange hair and a vast beard, was one of them. Glancing at her when she enters, he spoke, “Ah, the woman of the hour has arrived, let me be the first to toast in your honor lassie.” raising his stein Dearg announced “To Nyssa of gorgeous leaves, a more promising leader could not be asked, and a strong Cinerious to do us honor.”

Various “here here's” mixed with clinking mugs. Stone being a very popular human in her family, despite his boorish ways, she always respected him. So her smile became just a fraction more genuine when replying, “Thank you. To the Cinerious clan, may we make peace be in our time.”

“Awww she's just so precious when she's serious.” came a squeal, followed by a small pair of arms wrapping around her. “I love you so much, I'm so proud.”

“Mother, Father, this is all thanks to you. I love you both.” She says while both returning the hug, and ignoring the smell. Showing her smile, Nyssa disentangles herself to start mingling with the guests. Unfortunately to no avail, as her parents follow her.

“This is a big undertaking Nys, but I know your ready.”

“She'll do fine, don't worry so darling. If anyone should be worried it's me, THE DEER.” Any sentiment was lost with the forced pun.

Wanting to shift the conversation, Nyssa brought up something that was bothering her, “That reminds me, why is your scroll coming in from an unknown number?”

“Huh?” Her mother just blinks owlishly.

Her Father understood though, “Your scroll was changed a few weeks ago, remember dear after you dropped it in a fountain.”

“Oh, of course! No wonder you didn't know about the party. You don't see messages from unknown numbers, right?” She seemed oddly accomplished because of this.

Thinking she was upset with her for not responding her daughter answered, “They're sent to a separate inbox, I honestly haven't checked it lately. Sorry for worrying you Mother.”

“I should've sent you her information, we both know how she is.”

“HEY!! and what does that mean, gezz my own family conspiring behind my back. I think I need to keep you lot apart. Come on darling” with those parting words, her Mother shoved him away, barely getting out an “I love you” as they went.

Taking a deep breath, before walking over to a table and snagging a biscuit smearing it with a raspberry jam. Nodding thanks to, or murmuring agreements with several guests. The redhead peers around, looking for someone, catching sight of her Nyssa heads over to her mentor.

Her aunt Geel Umber had a very firm attitude about her, often she was the best sanctuary at these events. Easy to find in the bright yellows, blended with tan jackets and boots, she would stand in a calm area; or maybe the area was calm because she stood there. Aunt Geel had that sort of presence about her. This time, her aunt was sitting on a bench against the library wall nearby a small pond, and under a weeping willow. It was a delightfully relaxing spot.

“So you decided to grace us with your presence after all, child.”

“Yes, I had some trouble getting here.” with a single raised eyebrow the short brightly dressed woman prompted her to continue, “I actually was not aware of the event until just over an hour ago.” her aunt snorts, ”Then as I was on my way, I witnessed a group assaulting a man. Nothing noteworthy, however, I injured one and had to wait for the paramedics.”

“Oh, that sounds interesting to me. Why did you use so much force?”

Blushing Nyssa glances at the ground before responding, “I panicked. He leapt at me, I had a flashback to a Beowolf. He possessed an aura, but it was underdeveloped.”

“Child, you must stay calm in a fight. How can you make decisions on a battlefield if you cannot stop from injuring a weak opponent in a back-alley.” It was not the first time her mentor had scolded her. She didn't panic easy, however, sometimes she rushed into her decisions. Afterward, a better answer was so obvious, just never in the moment. “Yes, Auntie”

“Come now, my sister will be upset if you remain on this bench speaking with an old woman all night.” Standing up together, they rejoined the festivities.

 ------------------------------------------

The party kept going for a few more hours after Nyssa's arrival, even though it was obvious most of the guests had been there for a few already. She stayed away from the alcohol but enjoyed the fruits and jams. Most of her conversations were on the topic of Beacon and her future, a few wondered how she was fairing while living alone. She always enjoyed speaking about the first topic and was positive about the second. Living alone wasn't going to be anything like living with three others in a small dorm, she knew. There would be complications, as a team though they would overcome them. Once the guest had been leaving in ones and twos for the last hour all that remained, either lived in the compound or had the position of honored guests. Indeed, Dearg lay flat on his back snoring and no one had any intent of waking him but the sun. Nyssa tried, dreaming of another bath, said her goodbyes to one last round of well-wishers then made her way home.

It was there, safe in her tub that she dreamt. Although not asleep, she was imagining her life in the coming weeks. Her team behind her as they returned from another successful mission. The studies they would help each other on, becoming first in combat training, hell no doubt one day they would win the Vytal tournament. Only a few more weeks, a few more weeks until she didn't have to daydream. She would be living it.

 

 


	2. The Last One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might rewrite this, it feels off, but I'll sleep on it. I also said this would be out on Friday so sorry if anyone actually visits my Tumblr. I'll try to be better prepared in the future.

_**Victor Steele** _

_**The Last One** _

 

Springing awake, unsure of what alerted him but staying crouched, Malign's heavy weight appeared in his hand. Thunder crashed over Vale, making the deteriorating building shudder, chances are that was the cause for his earlier start. However, chance is unreliable. So, remaining tense the gray-haired boy stays motionless. Listening for a single noise besides the irritating rain; eyes darting for a sign of movement, as lightning strikes strobe through the attic window. After a minute with no more monsters than usual, Victor drops Malign, the pistol vanishing an inch from his hand. Standing up, he isn't the young child that he first appears, but a six-foot tall young man. Stretching under the slope roof is hardly possible for him, yet, lying down provides him with enough room. It's also easier to transfer into the morning's exercises; crunches, push-ups, a few minutes of planking, before a little meditation in a handstand. Truthfully, it always ends the same, a few falls on his ass before giving up. Today wouldn't be an exception.

Completing the morning ritual, he glances out the window, seems like the day is drawing to a close. A bit hard to tell, with the sky pouring it's honest little heart out. Clouds to the west definitely shined brighter though, meaning Apple's dinner would be soon. The silent man grabs his scroll to check any last minute messages, and the time. Squinting at the deceitful device, he changes his plans to packing up shop. Damn him for waking up four hours early.

Victor manages to fill only an hour with his stalling, before sweeping one final time through the attic. Positive the stashes were clear, he left. The place wouldn't last long enough for him to come back. A shame, it had a grip on him as an old favorite haunt, back when he was a dumbass kid he had such hardship before coming here. If luck existed this place was his proof, to bad it was a fickle bitch.

The little rickety building had once been a baker's home, good lady too. Always ignored the broken lock on the top window, even when some bread disappeared in the morning. She would leave old blankets, and clothes, her son had grown out of in the attic. He had only seen the new owner once when the guy arrived to kick the old lady out. Steele never did find out why she sold. The guy had talked nice, but his intentions were known. Some big shot merchant needing more room for his stock bought her home and the neighboring houses. They were supposed to be demolished years ago, sadly the merchant's goods got stolen. He lost so much that month, the loan-sharks still smelled blood. Great merchant no more, that's life; nobody had an interest in a few neglected buildings so it would have reverted to the lady. She wasn't around to get it back though, poor woman.

Reminiscing had brought him across town, only a few streets from Dante's, where he would be eating with Apple. Dante's Inferno had little claim to fame, slow most days it never really filled out. Most thought its location was poor, alongside a mall with at least another dozen restaurants, not to mention other clubs, but without any easy access. Anyone who thought along those lines didn't know Dante's was a front. It would be counter-productive if crowds swamped the nightclub, they might overhear Dante's true patrons. It was actually amusing, the Inferno held meetings for criminals every day; mafia, gangs, thieves, and White Fang. The owner and his family were all humans that made a pretty penny on cheap faunus workers. Those workers actually took their pay in safety and were able to report the patrons' conversations. The owners weren't rats, they never sold the information for the same reason they didn't become a popular club, wasn't profitable. After a few incidents, however, the little proactive measure got written up. Mind still wandering on Dante's history, he sat down on a nearby bench, just waiting.

\------------------------------------------

As usual, he arrived for the meeting early, honestly, he had left the bench only a moment ago, but no need for anyone to know that. Rainwater drips onto burnt-orange tiles as Victor's saunter into the building catches more than one eye. The eyes that mattered were from a rabbit faunus relaxing across the dance floor in a booth, another man sat with her. They were direct opposites; the guy in an ocean blue outfit, non-faunus, stiff shoulders, and ignoring the world around him. Apple wearing her casual red outfit, rabbit ears threaded through holes in the hood, arms back, peering at everyone and anyone. _He's not hitting on her, look more natural sitting at the bar though._ “Hey friend, who's the dead guy?” he shouted, beginning to walk over.

Her bunny ears flicked in annoyance, “I'm not shouting across the room Steele.”

As he approached Victor kept talking, “Honestly, I'm heartbroken. I had the perfect murder scheme for us. Then I get here and you've started without me.”

“He's a cousin from out of town,” Apple said, before shifting in her seat to look past him. “Steele, are you leaving a trail behind you?”

Glancing back, sure enough, there lay a path of water. He was like a giant gray slug. “Now now, I know how this looks, but I must profess my innocence. I was framed by Blue-Boy.”

“You're an idiot, and not allowed in the booth,” she mutters while pinching the bridge of her nose. “Hey Blyue mind giving us some space, the group should be here soon.”

Without a word he stands up, not quite looking at either of them and proceeds to walk over to the bar. Taking the spot Blyue left in the booth, Victor pulls up a menu.

“I already ordered you Kabobs.” She informs him, before softening her voice, “Hey listen, I know you want to go to Beacon, and no one's going to hold it against you. But it doesn't mean you couldn't still hang out you know. We'll all welcome you back, no hard feelings.”

“Honestly, no. I'll get dinner here, sometimes, but I can't _hang out_ ”, he emphasizes those two words while setting down the menu. “Tonight's the last night, odds aren't good if I stick around.”

A waiter brought their food then, six mouth-watering foot long kabobs for him and an out-of-character salad for apple. _She's at the grill and she's not having steak?_ Ripping into the meal it's hard to talk, but he manages something like “Muu theelin okay, Apuh?”

While picking at her salad Apple rolls her eyes, “Yes, I know exactly what you're saying, Steele. Agree 100% with you there.”

“Uh-huh, I said you feeling alright?”

“I'm playing up my position right now, some out-of-towners” her ears flick towards Blyue at that, “want to cause some trouble.”

Giving a wink Victor says, “Welp, show them what-for and all that.”

“Yeah yeah, thanks for the help Steele. Do me a favor don't start fights with Blyue or the golden monkey, Kay?”

Before he can stop eating long enough to reply a trio of faunus arrived at the table, “Why's the- Really? Can't you afford an umbrella Vic?” one of the newcomers, with lilac hair and two nubby horns sprouting out of her forehead asks. Using all his considerable tact Victor rips into his second kabob.

“I-If you need one I think I can buy one at the mall for you” Asamidori, a floppy eared dog faunus helpfully puts in. He still hesitated around the normal group, having risen to his current rank just last month. Oddly the outfit he wore was different. Well, not really that odd, Dori would swap out the accenting colors every few weeks. However, he had only been wearing his usual foamy green, matched alongside some reds and blacks for a day or two. Now he wore the green with sky and deep blue accents. _Interesting._

“I bought him one last week, he threw it into a river. So I threw the next one at his face, he shot that one...”

“Liar, I would never shoot in the middle of a public street.”

A chorus of “W-Wha-” “GODDAMNIT STEELE” “yeah...” all mixed with the lilacs uproarious laughter. Corcra continued giggling, “That's why you were upset last Thursday?”

“yeah...” Morgenrot repeated, then with a sigh followed, “I knew you'd laugh.”

A series of thuds sounds from the table as the rabbit faunus begun hitting her head on it. “If you're all done, can we begin.” Another new faunus speaks up, Steele had missed this one walking up, next to her Blyue stood with a distant look again. _Yup, that's a golden monkey all right._ Her hair shone a bright blonde, the same brilliant color of her tail. The pieces that really sold the look, however, were golden wrist-guards covered in golden bangles, along with the golden necklaces. _Give an F for blending in, but an A+ for disguise, she'll probably be mugged every five streets. Honestly, though, no one would think she's White Fang._

Lifting her head up Apple answers for the group, “Sure, and keep your voice down, Goud. We could do without more rumors.”

“Fine. Why's the human still here?”

“He's our thief, you asked for him by name.”

“You could just talk to me you know, instead of about me,” the slightly annoyed thief interrupted their back and forth.

Looking angry Goud turns to face him, “Why's a human helping the fang?”

 _Why's a racist resistance member a racist?_ “What? I don't like racist like you, they're bastards and curs the lot of 'em” Goud didn't seem to notice the snub, although Apple's glare said she sure did. _Yeah yeah, don't start fights._

“Fine, have you heard about The Old Guard,” without waiting for a response the shiny monkey continues, “they are a terrorist organization from before the human-faunus wars, one of our peace demands was the court trial of every member. Sadly, the cowards went into hiding, White Fang have been looking for their descendants to this day. We think Wilbur Wildfire is one of them, he has two main homes, one in each Atlas and Vale. I need you to get in without being seen, then out with any information or lack of it, you find. Try not to alert anyone, if the documents aren't here we'll be trying at his Atlas estate.”

“Any specifics or am I just going to wander around?”

“We've paid for an entry window, the proof is going to be hidden most likely,” with a shrug she finishes, “you're the thief. You have from 11pm until 5am, meet here before dawn.” Before storming off, blue-buddy in tow, leaving the rest of them to discuss the mission.

\------------------------------------------

The mansion sat just as described, a curtain wall surrounding the grass lawn. In a major city, one of the few safe from Grimm, such space was luxurious to be used for a fancy garden. Normally even the trees planted for privacy yield fruit too. The most productive thing in this garden were the guard-dogs. What? the thugs handling them didn't look very creative is all.

It took a few flashes of lightning before Victor found the signal, a dark window with a plate leaning against the plane. The lock would be undone for a few hours, thanks to a maid. Planning the route he'll take, the black dressed thief locks his climbing gear.

 _Annnnd start.._ Counting the seconds he jogs to the wall _..33..34..35 climb..36..What is it with Rich folks and their useless walls.._ Reaching the top he drops, landing softly before sprinting in between the bushes. _141..142..143..Chance is I'll make it._ Another sprint leaves him in front of the window, unlocked as paid for. He enters quickly, before dropping it back closed, Victor watches as the seconds tick by, _212..213.. and there's the patrol..Nice._

Inside, not much could be heard except the rain. The owner apparently figuring the men outside were good enough. A few little dim lights shed a glow along the walls. A love seat paired with two armchairs sat angled towards each other in the middle of the room, a tall clock told the time as roughly 11:23. He couldn't make out much otherwise, the room was probably made to talk privately with guests. No desk, just a liqueur cabinet, which Victor went after using his dagger. The lock gave up easily, more to stop a quick-handed servant than a determined burglar, unfortunately, he had limited options. Only whiskey, in fact, although a few differing bottles. He snagged two from the back, resetting the lock to hide the damage, hopefully, no one would notice or even be in the room for a few weeks. His first bit of profit is set gently down, to vanish, he continues on his way.

Hearing silence at the door again, Victor strolls down the hall, listening and peeking at every threshold. At a glance none have important documents, he was tempted only once. Inviting displays of dust weaponry, seemingly functional and even if only decorative they would fetch a pretty penny. However, an alarm system lurked inside and he was no closer to his goal.

Finally, an hour and several petty thefts later, Steele saw a desk. This one in a private writing room walls holding numerous books. The smug paintings, fine rugs, beautiful woods all pointed to Wilbur himself using the room. Curiously unprotected, every document lay bare and within easy reach. None were incriminating, which meant the real information was stored somewhere safe. He jammed the door to buy a little time should he be disturbed, before proceeding to go over the room carefully. Books removed one by one, every painting suspect, items on the desk fidgeted, desk checked for switches or catches, then he even shoved the desk aside to flip up the rug. Victor's face meet his palm as beheld the hidden trapdoor. _That's mildly disappointing, I mean honestly._

\------------------------------------------

Down beneath the hatch, a darkness hid anything from view. There are times few and far between in which Victor is unhappy with his body, no matter the circumstances. Still, it would be nice to have faunus' night vision instead of jumping into the unknown, hoping for the best. Those thoughts are short lived, though, only last long enough for half the fall in fact. However, they came back to the forefront of his mind, as Malign came into his hand. The hallway was properly grim, all dark colors alongside whites and reds. It continued one direction around 40 feet long, with 5 feet of walkway, 10 if you counted the room for the defense force. When he triggered the alarm red lights flew flashing on the walls, however, no sound screamed out. This made the robotic voice easier to understand as it proclaimed “Executing intruder”

A bullet through its mock head, with just as important circuitry stupidly enough, answered the machine. Under the bang of Malign, he shouted, “Why do they even give you voice boxes, you don't even know what you're saying you shitty piece of scrap metal.” _There goes the stealth, whoops._

The Atlas defenses further away exchanged their hands for rapid fire barrels, taking aim at the synthetic murder. Open firing at him, while those closer brought blades to bear on him. Swapping Malign for a board-sword shield combo, Victor casts his own blade in an arc decapitating the nearest robot. Taking cover behind its motionless body, he decides to sacrifice any remaining silence. Readying his shield Steele charges towards the ranged defenses, bashing or skidding past anything in the way. Trusting entirely in his aura he throws the shield down and uses it as a make-shift sled. The sword is gone again and his free hand picks a grenade out of thin air, popping it towards the start of the hallway. Past the majority of the robots, he rolls the shield scrunching up behind it. The boom shakes the corridor, slamming into him with a physical buffer of wind. _Welp, showed them what-for I did._

A flash covers Steele's vision as one of the surviving defenders swings its blade into the back of his head. Springing up and forwards, back the way he came, the shield is gone once more. Taking bead with Malign, 6 shots ring out, two each for every robotic head. Alarms start wailing above him as someone notices the ruckus. Feeling the pressure now he rushes to the secret room. Priceless paintings, file cabinets and some odd looking dust are all secured behind multiple locks. Stealth having already lost its meaning he takes a board-axe. Imbued with gravity dust, the downward swing has the force of a building behind it. _And there goes my profit, son of a bitch._

Without bothering to look Victor grabs all the documents each disappearing in his hands, before going for the strange dust as well. He didn't bother with the paintings, they'd be to traceable. Right as he returned to the room a thud came from the door. Thinking quickly he closes the trapdoor, flipping the rug back, then squeezes behind one of the bookcases he disturbed. After several rough hits and grunts, one of the guards burst in. “What the fuck. Where are you?”

 **Ting** , _Ah nothing more musical than a grenade in an empty room._ That was his thought before another shock wave smashed the bookcase into him, “Ow.”

“Uuggh” came a welcoming groan as he squeezed back out. Pistol in hand he walks over to the half-conscious muscle. _Well, Malgin sounds good smashing a bigot's head too._ Victor decides after hearing that noise as well. Shouting from down the hall reminded him of his position, he belted out of the room sprinting towards his exit. Thunder, nature's fearsome voice spoke suddenly, the entire building shook under its wrath. _Holy fuck._ Just as suddenly another set of alarms begins wailing, maids and guards panicking every which way, Victor manages to dodge or flee the worse of them. Finding a new window he decides to trust in luck and odds. Shattering it, he lowers himself down dashing across the garden, to the smell of smoke. _In this weather? Goddamnit Apple I was doing fine, shit that's a big fire. Fuck._

\------------------------------------------

Having made his escape and losing any possible tails, although there were none, Victor sat in Dante's upper room at the prime time of 4am. Long ago closed, the Inferno's doors hardly posed a problem, especially since half the staff had Fang ties. Goud was there too, spouting some nonsense about going to Atlas.

Dissuading her with his normal tact Victor interrupts her announcing, “Sorry, Goud, I ain't working for you.”

“Me, Apple, the name hardly matters, we're all White Fang.” The monkey faunus spoke with a smile, it didn't look friendly.

He slipped deeper into his gutter voice, “Nah, you're not getting it, Goldy, I said I ain't working no more. I got myself some schooling. Self-betterment and all that, you see?” _Don't sta-. Shutup, that's not starting a fight._

Goud narrowed her eyes at him, “Abandoning the cause? I know you're human, but they really thought better of you. It's a shame it's come to this, Blyue hold him.” Goud nodded towards Victor.

Everyone's eyes pointed at the door as Apple swung it open, banging against the wall. “What's going on here, I said no picking fights,” Apple shouted, Asamidori walking in behind her.

“Missus Gaudy decided I was gonna go to Atlas with her,” Steele replied, giving her his best I'm Innocent Please Believe Me face.

Glaring with the fearsome might of a 5'7” bunny girl whose clothes were soaked through enough you could tell she didn't have a muscle on her bone. Apple particularly screeched “Steele has an agreement with us, he's out unless he says otherwise.”

The floor pulled from under her Goud gasped,“You mean to support this human?”

Asamidori suddenly spoke up, “Hey, you guys don't know our business, we already talked with him. Vic has done a lot for us. Leave off him.”

 _Ah, shit. Now I've even made the rookie speak up. Damnit, gotta clear the air_ “Look it's whatever, I'm gonna head out, see ya friends. One thing missus Shiney, let me know if you or your blue-butt-buddy are in town. That way I can avoid seeing your ugly mugs.” Leaning back against the empty window, suddenly Victor fell through it, disappearing from view. Barely sticking the shorter than he remembered fall, he quickly pushes himself to his feet. Dashing to the end of this roof before hopping down again, although a bit more carefully this time. _Yup, that cleared the air, idiot. Arrrrgh the kid never had a chance with Blyue but still, no need for me to fuck it up. I mean, I didn't really._ _ **Sigh.**_

Dawn had come and gone, without a safe-house he had been wandering the markets to pass the time. Odds were Goud would leave him be, and it was doubtful that anyone from the mansion would identify him. Still, habits existed for a reason, it wasn't likely any White Fang in the city would be cross with their latest deserter, didn't mean he was about to go on the route everyone knew to find him at. Honestly, though, Apple would know the new hideout personally before the week was done. Once he was in class, fun times were going to become a luxury, hell everything Steele enjoyed would become a luxury. Why the hell had he decided to do this again? Oh yeah, cause he was wandering around without a roof, food, or reason. Sure, the White Fang could be his cause, but the group was heading down a violent path. Not that he blamed them, actually he agreed, really they should have done it sooner. It just didn't feel right anymore. Beacon would change that, he would have a home, consistent meals, and a creed. No need to skulk around town, people might even respect the name Victor Steele despite his birth. Life is uncertain, harsh even, people need to be tough to make it. Tough like St... _Fuck puns. I need to get some sleep if that's what I find funny._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clear up some things, chapters 1-4 are trailers. They will focus solely on a character a little before joining Beacon Academy. Also the writing will be skewed with their opinion, I.e those “kids” Nyssa fought were probably only a year younger, and might even have been older than her. Another thing if it wasn't clear, Italics are thoughts the character is currently having, bold is an action that is occurring. It may be a bit confusing because in-character thoughts will happen 3-rd prospective. All I can say is I'm a shitty writer, give me a bit of time T-T If you don't like it, don't preserve to long. I made a rather decent outline, think it's around 4k. (The trailers each take about 200 words of it) However, I just now thought of actually writing 4 characters interwoven in the same chapter. Gonna need to find an easy way to tell readers the POV, since I don't have the confidence in my writing to do that, yet. TBH I'd rather do it anyways because it doesn't hurt and it might help some readers. Give me ideas if you want.

**Author's Note:**

> Plis comment anything that bothers you, writing or otherwise, need to learn and improve.


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